Becoming Home
by bravevulnerability
Summary: "I'm telling you, we need a dog." Post-ep of sorts for 8x16, 'Heartbreaker'.
**A/N: Inspired by Castle's comment about wanting a dog in the episode and Stana Katic's most recently shared photo of her own pup.**

* * *

"I'm telling you, Beckett, if we had a dog, we would have had this case solved in half the time," Castle muses while she gathers up her belongings from her desk. He had strolled into her office after Esposito had departed, settled on her couch, kept her company through the rest of the workday, and proceeded to pester her about getting a dog.

For the second time this week.

"Castle, we are not getting a dog," she sighs, hefting her bag over her shoulder.

"Oh c'mon, remember Royal? We make fantastic dog parents. And just think, this time, we'd have the dog together. No co-parenting from separate apartments," he quips, rising from the couch, arranging her throw pillows back into place before he approaches her.

"Yes, but you know my job is-"

"But mine isn't," he supplies before she can even release the last of her sentence. "What about when - when we're actual parents? You'll still work, still come home to me and our child."

 _Our child_.

Oh, he knew how to take her breath away with such ease, knew how to trip her heart up in her chest, causing it to bump against her lungs and disrupt the steady exhale that rushes past her lips. It's been a 'when' for a while now, no more 'ifs' or 'maybes'. They would have a family one day, one day soon, and it terrified her, filled her with wonder and excitement, all at the same time.

"It could be like a practice run," he points out with a quirk of his brow, because of course, he knows he has her attention, has her right where he wants her. "And if we have a dog _and_ a kid, whenever need a babysitter, we could just-"

"Don't finish that thought," Beckett huffs, snagging his arm once she rounds her desk, starting for the door with her husband in tow.

"Okay, okay, but what if we just _considered_ the dog option?" he continues, waiting until she's locked up her office door before he catches her hand again.

"Fine," she grumbles, her thumb engaging in a playful war with his, hidden from view as they walk to the elevators. "We'll look into it."

"Does this mean we can meet with the retired police dog at a local shelter I've been in contact with?" Castle hedges, pursing his lips to subdue his smile, to hide his fear of her reaction.

Rightfully so.

"You've been doing _what_?" she questions, her voice remaining low, practically under her breath while he tugs her into the elevator by the hand.

"Just hear me out," he states, drawing his phone from his pocket and releasing her fingers to tap the screen, the elevator doors sliding shut as he passes her the device with a picture of a German Shepard, sitting lonely and miserable looking in a kennel on the screen. "A retired narcotics cop in Brooklyn dumped him there a few weeks ago and there have been a lot of officers, as well as interested civilians, that have gone in to adopt him, but he won't take to anyone."

"Take to anyone?" Kate inquires, unable to help the intrigue that seeps into her tone, the curiosity the sad eyed dog in the photo evokes.

"Yeah, you know, he won't interact or bond, just stays huddled up in his pen. And if he does, it's more hostile than friendly," Castle sighs, accepting the phone back from her and placing his hand to the small of her back as the doors open again, guiding her through the lobby of the Twelfth with the regained privilege of touching her in public. "He won't bite or anything, too well-trained they said, but according to the brief description the owner gave the shelter, they think he's suffering from severe depression, as well as PTSD."

Kate glances towards him once they're on the sidewalk, the cool breeze of Spring air tousling her hair, rippling through Castle's, and she sighs, bumps him with her shoulder.

"Did you do that on purpose?" she asks. "Go out and find a dog you knew I'd have a soft spot for because we have similar issues?"

"What? No!" he exclaims, hushed on the crowded sidewalk, but genuine in his surprise over the accusation. And when Kate spares him another look from the corner of her eye, she can see he really does look baffled.

She reclaims his hand, twines their fingers this time.

"Just checking."

"I wasn't even thinking of it like that," Castle chuckles with a slight shake of his head. "I just thought we could be a good fit for him. Since you know what his line of work is like, maybe you two could bond."

"What has them thinking he has post traumatic stress?" Kate inquires, strolling with him towards the nearest Brooklyn bound subway station.

"His owner, the cop that took him to the shelter, said he had been shot a couple of months before their mutual retirement this past year, hadn't been the same since, and that was why he had to get rid of him," he informs her, but her heart is in her throat at the explanation, throwing off her natural rhythm with him on the sidewalk and snagging Castle's attention.

"He just gave up on him?" she murmurs, feeling her husband's fingers tighten around hers, drawing her in closer to his side despite how awkward it makes their trip down the stairs of the station.

"I guess so," he concludes with a nod, slowing to a stop with her on the platform once they've swiped their metro cards, passed through the turnstile. "But I'm not trying to guilt trip you, really, I just thought-"

"You found a dog with a story and couldn't let it go," she surmises, leaning into Castle's side and resting her cheek to his shoulder. "I know, babe."

"And we're just going to meet him. Wolf may hate us too," Castle muses and she huffs a laugh into his jacket, squeezes his hand as the rumble of the train begins to fill the tunnel.

"Wolf?" she echoes, a quizzical smile tugging on her lips and Castle sighs, lifts his eyes to the ceiling in exasperation.

"Not only does his owner sound pretty heartless, but I'm inclined to believe that the guy lacks creativity. Big time."

Kate chuckles as the train screeches to an eventual halt in front of them.

"And if Wolf doesn't hate us?" she hums, straightening so they can join the slew of fellow passengers flocking onto the L train, drifting with Castle towards the back of the car and crowding into the cove of his body in the cramped space.

The sliding doors close, the train jerks back into motion, and Castle squeezes her hip.

"Then we decide if we want to be his new family."

* * *

He has seen Kate Beckett show adoration over a dog in the past, Royal the retriever stealing her heart for the duration of a case, but this one, this battered, retired police dog with a thin cast on his leg and eyes darker than a starless night, has his wife completely smitten.

"Well, this is quite the surprise," Liz, the woman in charge of the shelter, declares, a pleased smile on her lips, relief in her eyes. "I was beginning to think Wolf would be on his own for the rest of his days."

They've been inside the pen with the former service dog for the past half hour and upon arrival, Castle had been hesitant to meet Wolf, the solitary German Shepard who had been abandoned by his human partner of seven years only a little more than a month ago. Liz had told them the story, how the once trained K9 had been brought to the shelter in late February, transferred from what had once been a loving home to a pen of metal walls and the unfamiliar howls of other canines. How loud noises terrified Wolf, anything resembling the pop of gunfire sending the dog cowering in the corner of his cage, tucking his barely healed front leg into his chest, and suffering in silence. How the flicker of light had drained from the animal's eyes as he had watched his owner walk out of the shelter without him, acceptance of this new and uncertain fate stealing the glimpse of color, leaving him to waste away his days waiting for the right person to come along.

And apparently, that person was Kate Beckett.

Castle hadn't expected to find a dog that Kate would relate to so strongly, but he had watched her entire body soften at the dog's heart-wrenching backstory, and he thinks that his wife's understanding, her compassion, had instantly drawn Wolf to her the second they had entered the cage.

"Hi sweetheart," she had cooed, crouching to her knees and extending her hand out to the apprehensive animal, earning only a second of contemplation before it had crept forward, pressed its forehead to her palm and nuzzled into her touch.

It was how they had ended up sitting on cold, concrete floor, side by side with a dog laid across both their laps.

"This is the happiest I've seen him since he arrived."

Castle strokes a hand down Wolf's spine, scratches his fingers through the dark fur and listens to the dog sigh in appreciation, his muzzle cradled in Kate's arm, nuzzling the inside of her elbow.

"How soon can we take him home?" Beckett inquires, addressing Liz and ignoring the wide eyes Castle turns on her, the graze of her fingers along Wolf's back, bumping with his, her only acknowledgement.

Liz beams with approval. "I'll draw up the paperwork, put together a little care package, and you guys will be good to go in a matter of minutes."

"Perfect," Beckett replies, returning her attention to the wolf, waiting for the woman to head back towards the front desk to finally spare Castle a glance. "This is your fault."

"I'm aware."

"Making me fall in love with a dog."

"To be fair, I had no idea it would go this well," he points out, craning his neck to press his lips to her temple. "But I'm glad it did."

"What are we going to do with a dog, Rick?" she sighs, tilting her nose into his jaw, her lashes sweeping along his skin as her eyes flutter shut.

"We'll figure it out," he promises her, skating his fingers along Wolf's back to hook his pinky with hers. "I think it'll be good for us."

"Yeah?"

"Parenting trial run," he reminds her, earning a grunt of her laughter to his throat. "Right, Wolf? You'll show your new mom how good it's going to be."

"Oh, Castle, no. We are not doing that," she states, pulling back from him with a shake of her head. "We are not calling ourselves his 'mom and dad'."

" _Kate_ ," he whines, but she pointedly ignores him, her bottom lip between her teeth to bite back her laughter and her gaze on the dog glancing up at them. "How can you deny me the joy of becoming a pet parent?"

"Mr. and Mrs. Castle?" Liz calls, approaching them with a thin black leash and a small stack of papers. "I'm ready when you are."

"We're ready," Kate smiles, gently nudging Wolf with the shift of her leg. The dog immediately lifts, gracefully rises from their laps and adjusts into a sitting position in front of them, waiting patiently.

"Apparently, so is he," Castle comments, offering his hand to his wife as he stands, patting Wolf on the head before accepting the leash Liz holds out to them.

Kate begins chatting with the woman about the papers they'll be signing, about Wolf's dietary habits and the typical adoption tips, while Castle bends to secure the leash on the dog's collar.

"Don't worry, your mom will come around to the idea," he promises the dog, _their_ dog, and he swears the part of his mouth, the pink of his tongue poking from between his teeth, is Wolf's version of a returning smile.

* * *

Wolf does well on the short walk through Brooklyn, trotting close to Kate's side, slowing to a stop at every crosswalk and waiting without issue each time. Castle is forced to call the car service after their trip to the pet store in Williamsburg, their haul of supplies too large to even consider carrying home. And besides, Wolf wouldn't be allowed on the subway, a cab either, so the town car was really their only option.

"Just had to buy out the entire store, huh?" Kate teases him, sitting with their dog on the edge of the sidewalk, her knees tucked in close and Wolf's head at her shoulder.

"Are you really surprised? And he deserves the best, don't you, buddy?" he gushes, scratching the dog's head, still trying to balance all of their new purchases in his arms.

Dog bed, dog bowls, dog food, dog toys - everything Wolf's heart could possibly desire. Though, the dog didn't look as if he desired much more than the rub of Castle's fingers to his forehead and Beckett's presence at his side. All he needed was people he could trust again; all he needed was a family.

Kate lifts her hand to stroke at the dog's neck while they wait, her eyes drifting to the paw protector on Wolf's left foot. Liz had told them not to worry about the injury and even the owner inside the shop at their back, a former veterinarian, had taken a look, said that the healed bullet graze to Wolf's leg was well on its way to full recovery, but he would still likely suffer some phantom pain, potential arthritis depending on the damage to the bone.

"He babies it a bit," Kate comments, lowering her hand to clasp her fingers at her bent knees. "Noticed when we were walking."

"You don't think he's in pain, do you?" Castle inquires, but she shakes her head.

"No, Liz assured me that it's practically back to normal now, but what they said about phantom pain," she murmurs, nodding towards the pet store. "Makes me think he hesitates in putting pressure on it because he spent so much time avoiding doing so."

Rick tries not to remember that she speaks from experience, tries not to think back to the months she spent healing, the way she would wince, her hand rising to protect her battered heart, in those early days after she had returned from her father's cabin, recovered but brittle.

"Do you think we could get him physical therapy?"

"No, he's past that," Kate says, glancing up to him with a smile of reassurance and knowledge in her eyes. "He's going to be okay, Castle. Just needs a little time."

* * *

Wolf adjusts shockingly well to his new living arrangements, at ease in their home after only a brief exploration of his surroundings, and following direction without trouble by the first night - staying away from the furniture, refraining from begging when Rick and Kate have dinner, settling under the acquired comfort zone of Castle's desk after they retire to their bedroom each night.

"K9s endure a lot of strict training," Kate had explained to him on Wolf's second night while they had brushed their teeth side by side and Wolf was curled up in his plush bed. "There's no room for error in the field."

But despite how strictly trained the dog was, despite seven years on the force and how courageous Wolf still is, he resembled a terrified puppy when Castle woke in the middle of the night a week later to check on him during their first thunderstorm together.

"Aww, Wolf," he sighs, crouching down beside the dog's safe haven of Castle's desk. A storm was sweeping over the city, a gentle shower with a touch of thunder, a flash or two of lightning, but the crackle of sound had the dog releasing a quiet keen. "Come here, buddy. You're okay."

Wolf emerges from beneath Rick's desk with caution, his tail between his legs, head bowed as Castle cradles the skull in his palms, uses his fingers to scratch behind the dogs ears.

"You're okay," he promises once more. "You're with us now and I swear, nothing bad will happen to you here. I know you've had a rough go of it, but your new mom and I aren't going anywhere. We won't leave you."

The thunder rumbles louder, Wolf crowds into Castle's chest, and Castle lowers from his haunches to sit on the floor, eases backwards to prop himself against the nearest bookshelf, and allows the dog to curl between his bent knees.

"Want me to tell you a story? Ooh, I could tell you how I met your mom, that one's a bestseller. Literally."

"Castle?" He lifts his head to see Kate in the bedroom doorway before he can even begin, squinting through sleep and the two a.m. darkness to see him. "What's wrong?"

"Wolf is scared of storms," he explains, nodding to the windowpane spattered in raindrops. "So I'm sitting with him until it passes."

Kate drifts out of the doorway, coming towards him with a tender smile spreading across her lips. She shuffles to a stop at his side, her knee bumping his shoulder before her legs fold beneath her and she joins him on the floor, smearing her lips to his cheek as she descends to sit beside him.

"Hey Wolf," she calls softly, earning the dog's immediate attention, the habitual nuzzle of his nose when Kate's palm slips past the barrier of Castle's arm to caress the dog's face. "You're okay, honey. Daddy's got you."

The fact that she's broken her rule of referring to themselves as 'pet parents' for the first time hardly registers, his mind too captivated by the soothing coo of her voice, in awe of the way she speaks to their dog as if it's their child, the idea of what it could be like when the wolf in his embrace is an actual infant all too easy to picture.

"No gloating, Castle?" she muses, smudging her cheek to his shoulder while she strokes Wolf's fur.

The dog has become relaxed in his embrace, the tension in his muscles dissipating and the rabbiting beat of his heart evening out to a steady thump Castle can feel against his chest.

"No," he sighs out, wistful and a little dazed, so wonderfully content. Rick drops his cheek to rest atop his wife's head, the white noise of rain, the warm weight of Wolf in his arms and Kate at his side, enough to lull him to sleep. But he doesn't want to close his eyes. "Just happy."

Kate stains a kiss to his t-shirt covered shoulder and curls in closer, humming in appreciation when Castle maneuvers his arm around her, draws her in to share his embrace with Wolf. "Me too, Castle." He feels the yawn she releases against his throat, her fingers going limp at Wolf's neck and her lashes tickling his throat in a goodnight kiss. "Happy family here."


End file.
